


i wish

by hypercatt



Series: witchin' [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: (not) dealing with emotions, M/M, Magic AU, Pining Stan, Potions, School, Witch AU, based off the song!!, implied Creek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22210198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypercatt/pseuds/hypercatt
Summary: Friday night, and the boys are doing illegal rituals in the backroom. Same as always, really.
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh
Series: witchin' [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1598764
Comments: 9
Kudos: 51





	i wish

**Author's Note:**

> i wasnt gonna continue this au but then uhhHHHH

At times like these, Stan was sure that Kyle could absolutely never make a mistake.

It wasn’t true, obviously; being friends for so long, Stan had seen his fair share of Kyle’s failings, his irrational thoughts and overzealous actions, but right now, all of those things seemed a million miles away. After all, Stan was sat here on the bleachers, crossing out yet another mistake in his workbook, whilst Kyle was gliding through the air, weaving through obstacles seamlessly. It was hard to even imagine him making a mistake at this point. So many years and he’d become one of the best.

Stan hadn’t really become anything.

Kyle was always blazing, always determined to do whatever he wanted to. It was just like the broom thing – back in first year, everyone had thought Kyle could never compete with the other pure Sky Witches, but he didn’t let their doubts stop him, and now he was better than half the team. And Stan had seen all the hard work – the stains of the mud after an unexpected dive or the splinters or the soaked practice clothes tossed aside in their room after a bad practice in the rain- he’d been with him the whole time.

But, even though he probably should be, considering his own achievements, Stan wasn’t really jealous. Instead he just felt kind of...awed. Amazed by Kyle’s ability to do whatever he wanted. Sometimes it was bad, sometimes good, but he kept on anyway.

It was really... _cool_.

Stan crossed out another line as he reluctantly looked away from the swerve of brooms back down to his book, before giving up and just scribbling out the entire paragraph, pen leaving frustrated indents in the paper. It wasn’t like he didn’t know the answers, but somehow it felt like anything he wrote just wasn’t going to be good enough. Like the teacher would take one glance and deem it a solid zero.

If it wasn’t for Kyle, Stan was sure he’d be convinced that magic kind of sucked. He didn’t like his own, he didn’t like Cartman’s, and he definitely didn’t like his dad’s. It got in the way, it was tricky, and half the time it caused more harm than good. But, with Kyle, it was different.

The piercing sound of a whistle echoed from somewhere in the sky, and Stan immediately slammed the book shut, stuffing it into his bag before the first broom had even touched the ground. He pulled himself up to his feet, feeling the hard soil beneath his boots. It only took a few seconds before Kyle came soaring down, hopping off his broom before he’d even reached the ground.

“Hey, dude!” he greeted, grinning with that breathless but excited look he always had after practice.

“Hey.” Stan grinned back, finally able to talk again like he’d been wanting for the past hour. “You were super awesome today!”

“You think so? I can tell I’ve gotten faster, though I still don’t know if I’ll be fast enough for the race.”

“You were totally the fastest,” Stan said, keeping his eyes on Kyle even as the other members of the practice team started to land. “I was watching the whole time.”

“Yeah?” Kyle looked happy for a moment, before he shot Stan a look. “The whole time? So that means you didn’t do your homework?”

“I did most of it,” Stan said, pulling a face. “I need you to check it though. I think my conclusion sucks.”

“I can look if you want,” Kyle said, and Stan started to follow as he began his walk back to the school building. “But you know it’s not gonna be graded or anything. I wouldn’t care that much.”

“You say that like I didn’t see you spending three hours on it last night.”

Kyle looked guilty at the callout. “I just don’t want the teacher to get pissed at me.”

“Trust me, dude, she’s got worse students to worry about,” Stan said, glancing back to his bag. “Like me.”

“You’re really not that bad,” Kyle said, shaking his head. He pulled off his gloves and stuffed them in his pockets, flexing his fingers. “It’s all just like, confidence and stuff, y’know? If even a fat useless piece of shit like Cartman can convince people he knows what he’s doing, so can you.”

“Just because Cartman doesn’t use good magic, doesn’t mean he’s not good _at_ it,” Stan muttered.

“You’re fine, dude. Seriously.”

“Yeah, I can just pass all my exams with Sparky’s power to piss on every other thing he sees,” Stan said, and Kyle let out a burst of laughter, turning to look at him. Something in the orange haze of the setting sun and the green of Kyle’s eyes made Stan look away, and back to the ground. Something in his chest was beating too hard, and he bit his lip.

Not jealous, kind of awed, but definitely in far too deep.

-

“I need help.”

Kenny and Butters both turned to look at him, whilst Cartman just continued to lean over the back of the sofa, causing it to groan out under his weight. Stan was sure that after a few more minutes, it was going to break for good.

“What do you need help with?” Butters asked, looking much too worried as always, and Stan sighed.

“It’s- uh...” He hesitated for a second, glancing at the three of them. Was this really the best he could come up with? Jeez, without Kyle the amount of faith he had in this group really fell low. But, these guys were the only ones he knew well enough, so... “Like...romance stuff?”

At the same time Butters’ face lit up and Kenny grinned, Cartman let out a low groan, heavily shifting his body to face back towards him with an unimpressed expression.

“Stan, lemme tell you. _None_ of the hoes at this school are worth bothering with.”

“Oh shut up, Cartman, like you’ve even managed to keep a girlfriend for longer than two days,” Kenny said, easily shifting away to ignore Cartman’s scowl. “What kinda help you want?”

“You want some, uh, love advice?” Butters asked, eyes shining, and Stan shifted uncomfortably.

“No,” he said, glancing to the side. There was still ice on the window, and he glanced past it to the sky. “I actually- kinda wanna get rid of it.”

“Get rid of it?” Kenny raised an eyebrow, but Stan didn’t get the impression he was judging him, thank god.

“I read up about it,” Stan continued, voice quiet and eyes low. “You can like, force away romantic feelings. There’s this whole thing you gotta do.”

“Just to be on the same page,” Kenny said, and Stan lifted his eyes. “We’re talking about Kyle, right?”

“What- no-!”

“Oh, I was thinkin’ that too,” Butters said, and Stan stared at him. “Was I wrong?”

“Yes-“

“We can’t help if we don’t know who it is,” Kenny said, giving him a look, and Stan swallowed.

“Yeah like, I’m seriously, Stan,” Cartman added, looking half-bored. “You are one of the gayest people I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, I hate to agree with Cartman, but you’re pretty fucking obvious, dude,” Kenny continued, and Stan felt his heart sink lower and lower as his face grew hotter. “You’re lucky Kyle’s probably the only person stupid enough not to notice.”

“Though I don’t blame your decision to not wanna bone a Jew,” Cartman said, and Stan frowned.

“That’s- not it,” he muttered, already feeling like he’d said too much. “It’s just- me, and I don’t wanna like, complicate it, or- just...”

_Get rejected_ , because he definitely would if he ever tried anything. And then things would get weird between them, and the friendship would be ruined. It had been fine ignoring it until this point, but it still wasn’t going away and it was getting harder to hide. Well, he hadn’t been hiding it at all, apparently. Ugh.

“But I don’t think it’s all that good of an idea,” Butters said, frowning sadly at him. “I mean- love is supposed to be a good thing, right?? You can’t get rid of that!”

“It’s not a good thing,” Stan said. “And I can get rid of it. I already looked up the ingredients, and how many people you need, and how to do it and everything. We could totally do it with the four of us.”

“Wow, you really thought this through, huh,” Kenny said, still staring at him with that careful expression.

“I’m surprised you didn’t kill yourself, getting a gay-crush on _Kahl_ of all people-“

“So will you help me??” Stan asked again, more desperate now. If he had to admit all this and end up without any means to get actually rid of it, then he really was going to kill himself, for real. “The longest part is the brewing time. Everything else will only take like, a few days, max.”

“I’ll help you, Stan, don’t worry,” Cartman said, nodding his head slowly. “Always there to help a friend suffering to this extent.”

“I mean, I don’t really think it’s a bad thing,” Kenny said, shooting a look at Cartman. “But if you really want to, dude, I can help.”

“M-me too, I guess,” Butters mumbled, still looking sad. Stan kind of understood, but then also didn’t, because as much as it would be great if love was all happy and cute and everything else, for the most part it was just annoying, and way too overcomplicated. Getting rid of it completely would solve all his problems just like that. Literally a miracle tonic.

“Okay, um-“ Stan reached for his bag, rummaging through a swarm of old paper and wrappers before he found what he was looking for. He’d clean it out another time. “So, first things first...”

-

Stan lingered by a cluster of bushes, trying to let the long leaves hide his face as he crouched down next to Cartman and Butters, watching carefully. Mid-afternoon and after classes, a busy time but not too busy. Stan preferred to come here with less people around, but today was an exception.

“That guy,” he said suddenly, and Cartman honed in a little.

“The midget?”

“I- guess?” Stan frowned. “He’s not that small.”

“But I can use magic on him no problem?”

“Yeah, probably. He’s pretty easily influenced, I think.”

“Leave this to me,” Cartman said, pulling himself up, and Stan eyed him warily.

“Don’t like, kill anyone.”

“I’ll do what I was asked to do,” Cartman said, and Stan suddenly worried he was making a mistake. Maybe he should’ve stuck with Butters, after all. They both had the same type of magic, so either of them could have worked. But knowing Butters, he’d probably wimp out and get them all caught.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” he said beside Stan, and Stan just rolled his eyes. Definitely would’ve wimped out. “I mean, these things are against the rules for a reason, right??”

“Yes, but that’s because there are stupid people who don’t know how to use them,” Stan whispered, watching as Cartman approached the guy he’d pointed out before. “Shh, let me listen.”

“Why, hello there, my good friend,” Cartman started, and Stan could already see the guy pulling back a little, making a face as Cartman drew nearer. “See, I was _wondering_ if you could offer me a little help with something.”

“Uh, I don’t think so...”

“I understand your apprehension, really,” Cartman said, and Stan watched carefully as the shoulders of the boy seemed to jerk a little, being tugged down into a more relaxed position almost like gravity had tripled all of a sudden. “But all we need is one of the roots you’ve got locked away at the top there, and then we’ll be fine.”

“That- sounds like a good idea,” the boy said, nodding, before turning, and Stan was glad for the victim’s complete lack of awareness as Cartman turned and gave them an obvious smug grin.

“You coulda, uh, get in a lot of trouble if someone catches you doin’ this,” Butters muttered again, and Stan let out a hard sigh.

“Butters, I already told you. It’s fine. We know what we’re doing.”

“But, couldn’t you just talk to Kyle-?”

“Shut up, you’re gonna get us caught.”

“And make sure you don’t tell anyone about this,” Cartman continued, and the boy nodded stiffly again, pushing the key into the lock of the drawers. “It’s private business.”

“Yeah, totally understandable,” the boy said, placing the root into a bag before handing it over. “I agree with what you’re saying.”

“Of course you do,” Cartman said, smirking again. “Who wouldn’t?”

“God, he’s an asshole,” Stan muttered, standing up as Cartman came strolling back over to them with about three chins of smugness. An asshole, but way too good at using his magic. Or, good at using it in ways he definitely wasn’t allowed to.

“Here,” he said, tossing it over to Butters, who fumbled as he caught it, like just touching it would burn him. “Go make your anti-gay potion with that.”

“Ah, jeez, I’ve read about this stuff,” Butters said, glancing at the bag. “I read if you drink too much of this stuff, you can die!”

“Well, I just won’t drink that much of it,” Stan said, shrugging. “Or just like, don’t use it all. It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, you don’t wanna be a murderer, right, Butters?” Cartman asked, and Butters recoiled, blinking rapidly.

“Oh jeez, no, I don’t wanna do that at all!”

“Then just be careful with it,” Cartman said, shrugging. “If it doesn’t work, we can always use the rest to kill Kahl.”

“We’re not doing that,” Stan muttered, then turned to Butters. “But can you really make it without anyone seeing?? Doesn’t like, Tweek or whatever always camp out in that room?”

“Well, he used to, but not as much anymore,” he said, fiddling with the edges of the bag. “But, uh, I guess it’s still a risk...and I don’t wanna get in trouble-“

“Just don’t get caught then,” Stan said, pushing the doors open and feeling the cold air of the corridor cut through his sweater, glancing down at the stairs.

Just a few more days, and this mess would finally be over.

-

Casting circles were some of the most basic types of magic, but it still took them six attempts to get the stupid candles to light up.

“Is this really a circle?” Kenny asked, glancing around the dark of the room. “With four people, it’s more a square, right?”

“Does that matter?” Stan asked, frowning as he sat down across from him. To be honest, the whole set-up was kind of...bootleg. They’d needed a dark room, but also a room where nobody would find them, so they’d ended up in some old storage cupboard full of cleaning sprays and emergency bandages and all other things that were never used in lieu of magic. And casting circles were always better with Tome Witches, but he didn’t want to drag in any of Craig’s group, and Kyle was...obviously out of the question.

“Just hurry up, I’m hungry,” Cartman muttered, sat slumped against the floor. Stan wondered if he might make up for them not having many people, since he had the body fat of at least three others. “Let’s get this gay shit over with.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, since we got the candles to light up,” Stan said, more to himself than anyone else, and glancing around once more. That was one circle, for security. And they were the next. Butters had already set the potion down in the middle of the room, surrounded again by a shaky circle drawn in chalk where only after did Stan think it would have been a good idea to bring something to trace around. “So...it’s ready, right? We can start?”

“Sure,” Kenny shrugged, cross-legged next to Butters.

“I- guess I’m ready...” Butters murmured, and Stan took a breath, staring hard at the centre of the circle. From here it was simple. Say the incantation, burn the paper, drink the potion. Easy. Super easy.

Stan stayed still. The reflection of the fire flickering in the bottle burned into his eyes, and he tried to find the courage to just- start.

“...Are you sure you want to do this?” Kenny asked suddenly, and Stan’s head snapped up. “Like, it’s not too late to back out.”

“Dude, if you pussy out now that’ll be seriously lame,” Cartman warned, staring at him.

“You could still try just...talkin’ to him,” Butters said softly, and Stan took a deep breath.

If it worked, it would be- really different not feeling the same way for Kyle anymore. Like, sometimes it was nice, the emotions that came with seeing his smile, or their long chats at night, or when they did homework together, when they’d end up shoulder to shoulder on the sofa. Those feelings were nice, they were warm, but- they also hurt, a lot. Hurt when Stan realised it wouldn’t go anywhere. Guilty when he realised Kyle never thought about him that way.

It would just keep being sad, for both of them. This had to end already. If he couldn’t get over it himself, then- this was the only way.

“No, I’m sure.” Stan readied himself, holding the folded piece of paper in his hand. A confession of his feelings that he’d been so terrified of Kyle finding in their room that he’d not taken it out of his pocket for the entire week. “Let’s start.”

“Finally,” Cartman muttered, then hushed as the candles started to flicker more intensely. Even though they hadn’t even started talking yet. This was going to be- a strong spell.

Good. It needed to be.

“In these words I cast my spell,  
And bestow my last farewell.  
A feeling I cannot convey -  
Take these cherished parts away.”

Stan felt his heart pang one last time as he carefully held the paper out onto the flame in front of him, feeling a weird sense of fear and sadness as he watched the flame grab hold and start to climb its way up. Words turning into ash, falling onto the floor in front of him. They were really- all going away.

Was this okay? Was this really okay??

With a hand he hadn’t realised was trembling, Stan picked up the bottle, feeling its cold on his fingertips. The others were watching him carefully, and he felt as much as them the expectation he would give up now, and throw the potion away.

No. It had to be okay. It had to be like this. It had to be.

With a final intake of air, Stan threw back the potion.

A wave of dizziness washed over him for just a second, making him forget the cold feeling in his throat, before he opened his eyes again, trying to sense if he felt any different. Well, he was on the floor. Lying down. Was that new...probably. It was hard to remember where he’d been five seconds ago.

“Oh shit, he’s not dead,” Kenny said, leaning over him, and Stan blinked, sitting up. The room was still dark, candles burning normally now. The bottle was empty.

“Why would I be dead?” Stan asked, staring at him. Behind him, Butters was sat with his head in his hands, tearfully looking up at them, and Cartman was staring with half-relief, half-irritation.

“You’ve been passed out for like, ten minutes,” Kenny said. “Don’t remember?”

Stan thought back. “Not really.”

“Seriously, Butters, we said you didn’t kill him,” Cartman muttered.

“W-well, he just- went all limp like that, I-I thought...”

“You remember who you are though, right?” Kenny asked, staring hard into his eyes. “Name?”

“Stan.”

“Magic?”

“Familiar, Garden.”

“Why you’re here?”

“We did a casting circle,” Stan said, staring at the empty bottle beside him. “So I wouldn’t like Kyle anymore.”

“So, did it work?” Cartman asked, leaning nearer to him and narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “You still wanna bone Jew ass?”

“...I can’t feel it anymore,” Stan said, after a moment of searching in his chest.

“Wow, that’s unexpected,” Kenny said, grinning at him. “Not only did we not kill you, but we also got rid of your crush.”

“I-I still don’t think it’s all that good,” Butters murmured. Stan started collecting the candles from around him, blowing out the flame. “You know, I was checkin’, seein’ if they had an antidote or anythin’-“

“I don’t need an antidote,” Stan said, pushing the candles into a pile before pushing them into his bag.

“Yeah, Butters, it worked, stop being a buzzkill,” Cartman said, standing up. “C’mon, let’s go to the cafeteria.”

Stan bent down and picked up the bottle, staring at it one last time, and the empty gaze of his reflection stared back at him.

-

Monday morning, and they had all crowded into the cafeteria as normal, squished up in the corner of the room to get as near to the heating as possible. To the side he could see Craig and the others actually sitting inside for once, maybe because of the cold. Everyone around him was talking, though Stan didn’t really have any desire to join in, for some reason.

It was only after he’d put down his knife and fork back on his tray and Cartman had launched into some story that Kenny was giving an unimpressed look to, did Kyle turn to talk to him directly for the first time that morning.

“Are you still tired?” he asked, and Stan stared. “You seem kind of- out of it.”

“I’m fine.”

Kyle frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“...Okay...” Kyle still didn’t seem convinced, and looked down for a long moment, eyes on his lap. An even longer moment passed, the sounds of Kenny calling Cartman a dumbass muffled in the background. “...It’s still pretty cold outside, right? More than you’d expect at this time of the year.”

Stan nodded.

“Though I don’t think it’s going to snow again.”

“Probably not.”

“I guess you can’t play with Sparky with the snowballs anymore, huh.”

“Guess so.”

Kyle shot him another look, something Stan couldn’t really identify in his eyes, and it looked as if he was going to say something before Cartman turned his attention back to them.

“Jeez, it’s this early and you two are already talking about each other’s balls,” he said, pulling a face, and Kyle scowled back at him.

“Fuck off, Cartman, Stan’s not in the mood for your bullshit right now.”

“Sounds like someone’s pissed off that Stan finally realised how useless a Jew is as a friend-“

“Actually, _are_ you okay?” Kenny asked then, staring at him carefully. Stan stared back.

“I’m fine. I already said.”

“See, it’s not just me,” Kyle said, turning back to him with an adamant stare. “You’ve got this kind of hazy look in your eyes. Maybe you’re getting sick.”

“I don’t feel sick.”

“Actually, you’re kind of...” Kenny trailed off thoughtfully, then leaned across out on his chair to reach Craig’s table, catching the edge of Clyde’s shoulder. “Clyde, question.”

“What do you guys want?” Clyde said, glancing over at them, still half-chewing on his food. “I’m eating.”

“Craig has no emotions, right??”

“Hey, fuck you,” Craig said from the other side of the table, leaning forwards so they could see his middle finger. Now the rest of the table was looking at them, getting dragged along like they always managed to.

“Pretty much, why?” Clyde said, swallowing his mouthful.

“I think Stan has turned into Craig,” Kenny said, and Stan blinked at him. Everyone from both tables turned to look at him, though he didn’t really understand what the big deal was.

“What’d you do to him,” Craig asked, and Tweek leaned past him to look as well.

“We didn’t do anything, he just woke up like this,” Kyle said, frowning. “Well, maybe it started earlier. I didn’t really notice.”

“Craig isn’t totally emotionless,” Token said, glancing at his friend. “I mean, you always get happy when you see Stripe.”

“Not _just_ Stripe,” Clyde muttered, looking off to the side with a smirk.

“Stan, you like animals too, right?” Token continued, turning back to him.

“I guess,” Stan said, and Kyle’s head snapped towards him with an incredulous expression.

“Dude, what?? You ‘ _guess’_?”

“Oh yeah, get Stripe, see if that fixes him,” Clyde suggested, swinging back in his chair. Craig nodded, making a half-hearted gesture with his hand, before Stripe appeared on the table, nose twitching with wide eyes.

“What the hell, since when could you do that?” Cartman said, pulling a face, and Craig just shrugged easily. Tweek shot him a proud smile beside him.

“Here.” Craig scooped Stripe up into an outstretched hand, then leaned over so Stan could see the two beady eyes of the guinea pig staring at him. Stan stared back.

“He’s cute, I guess,” he said, wondering if he was meant to be feeling something from the sight of Craig’s familiar. Apparently so, as everyone around the two tables gave him a weird look, and Craig withdrew his hand back, looking mildly offended.

“Dude, you must be getting seriously sick or something,” Kyle said, still frowning at him. “If you start feeling worse, go to the nurse or something.”

“But I’m fine.”

“God _dammit_ ,” Cartman said from across the table, heaving out a sigh. Kenny looked equally doubtful, and the two of them shared a look that Stan couldn’t really read.

This day was just- normal. It felt normal. There wasn’t anything wrong.

-

“So, basically,” Kenny was saying, lounging back on a beanbag he’d managed to drag out from somewhere. “We broke Stan.”

Stan glanced around the room, trying to remember if he’d ever been in here before. Sure, he’d seen Tweek hovering around the gardens more than a couple of times, and they’d spoken before no problem, but he was pretty sure he’d never come into the Home Witch room before. Probably not. Not like he had a reason to.

“Gah, what are you talking about??” Tweek said, twitching as he pressed himself back against the counter. “Broke _how_??”

“I mean, you saw yesterday morning, right?” Kenny shot him a look. “He’s fucked.”

“Totally fucked,” Cartman said, shaking his head. “If he’s gonna go around being obvious as shit, we’re gonna get caught in no time.”

“I-I did say it was a bad idea...” Butters mumbled, sat on the floor with his legs hunched up next to Kenny. Tweek frowned, shoulders jerking again as he inched over to Stan, before shakily looking him over. “He ain’t gonna die, is he?”

“What- exactly did you do?”

“It was just a casting circle, not a big deal,” Cartman said.

“Uh, a ritual...?” Butters said, frowning.

“Fucked around with an anti-love potion,” Kenny said, shrugging.

“ _What_?” Tweek stared, twitching increasing in intensity. “Why- would you do that, ngh?”

“Because Stan didn’t wanna be gay for Jew dick anymore, duh,” Cartman said, shaking his head.

“You’re seriously telling me-“ Tweek started, using one hand to grab his hair. “That in the span of five months, _two_ people at this school have drunk illicit and suspicious potions because they were too scared to deal with their emotions?? And now you want me to fix it _again_ , ack?!”

Cartman and Kenny glanced at each other. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it.”

“Well, at least he’s not dyin’ this time,” Butters added.

“Annoying as fuck though,” Cartman said. “I’m seriously, watch this. Hey, Stan, your mom’s a crazy bitch and your dad’s a dumbass alcoholic!”

“Okay,” Stan said, blinking at Cartman, who just shook his head.

“See? The fuck is up with that!”

“Hey, Stan, do you still have that list?” Kenny asked. “That you used on Friday.”

“Probably.” Stan pulled his bag aside and started sorting through the screwed up sheets again, digging out the paper he’d used to make notes on two weeks ago. Sometimes it came in handy never throwing things away. Tweek took it from, eyes twitching as he sped down the list.

“Agh, seriously, why would you do this??”

“He wanted to,” Kenny said, shrugging.

“I think it’s pretty sad,” Butter added. “And I’ll bet Kyle’s gonna be sad too, now that his best friend can’t feel anything.”

“Well, ngh, if Butters was the one who made it, I might be able to figure out an antidote,” Tweek mumbled. “But this is super unstable stuff!! And you didn’t even have a Tome Witch with you for the spell! Who knows what kind of magic you forced out??”

“If he stays like this, then, Butters,” Cartman said, turning to Butters. “You get to be the new Stan.”

“Oh jeez, really? But, I don’t think I can do that. Redheads aren’t really my type.”

“How long’s it gonna take, Tweek?” Kenny asked, finally pulling himself off from the ground. He seemed to fit in pretty well here, and Stan was reminded suddenly that he still didn’t know his friend’s magic type. Somehow. He’d have to ask later.

“I don’t even know if I can do it yet, ack!!” Tweek pulled his hair, trembling. “If I figure it out, I’ll let you know, okay??”

“Good enough for me,” Kenny said, and Stan just nodded.

-

A week later, and Stan didn’t really feel any different.

Well, people were treating him differently, he could tell that much, but nothing in him changed. Like, not happy, not sad, not anything. Just kinda...there. It wasn’t bad, but then again, it probably wasn’t that good either.

Kyle definitely seemed to think it wasn’t good.

“You’re still not feeling better??” he asked, hovering by the side of Stan’s bed, and Stan stared up at him. He would’ve said ‘I’m fine’, like he had done the past twenty times, but he was getting pretty sure that it wasn’t working. The silence seemed to say the same, though. “Honestly, I’m- kind of worried. You’re not depressed or anything, right? Like, you’d tell me if you were, right?”

“Yeah, I’d tell you.”

“But I still feel like something’s bothering you,” Kyle said, sighing as he slumped down onto Stan’s bed. “Even if you don’t wanna talk about it right now...is there something I can do?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, dude, you tell me.”

“I don’t know either.” Again, another check with his chest and mind. Still nothing. “There isn’t anything I wanna do.”

Kyle frowned at the floor for a moment, biting his lip, before he looked up with a more hopeful expression. “What about Sparky? Wanna take him for a walk?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, good,” Kyle said, seeming satisfied with that. “I think it’ll be good if you get some fresh air, too.”

Stan nodded, standing up to follow Kyle as he left their room, still wrapped up in their outerwear from classes earlier. Maybe it was starting to get warmer, but Stan couldn’t tell.

“I know the others tried earlier with Stripe, but that’s _Craig_ ’s familiar, not yours,” Kyle was saying as they walked, pace brisk as always. “And honestly, Sparky is way cuter than a guinea pig.”

Stan nodded. “Yeah.”

“I- and I mean, dogs are just like...more expressive too,” Kyle carried on. “So I think once you see him, you’ll cheer up a bit.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Kyle fell quiet for a moment, footsteps echoing loudly down the hallway. The sound of other students was coming from down the other end, down the corner, the familiars’ room always busy.

“...Are you going to come to practice again next week?” Kyle asked then. “Last week you said you were busy, but this week you’re kind of...”

“I can go,” Stan said.

“I’d say don’t force yourself,” Kyle said. “But I really think it’s good if you don’t lock yourself away for too long with stuff like this. Even if this is...different.”

“It’s different?”

“ _You’re_ different,” Kyle said, something like frustration breaking through into his voice, but he didn’t continue further, instead letting the silence fall back between them.

The familiars’ room was one of the biggest in the school, Stan was pretty sure. It was more of a set of rooms, if anything, and branched out to the outside for students who had familiars that were better suited to the outdoors. Sparky was well trained, so Stan didn’t have him tied up anywhere, but he’d decided long ago it didn’t feel safe enough to just let him roam outside. Sometimes he’d bring him back to their room, but it was too small to keep him locked in whilst they were at class all day.

Kyle made his way to the room where the other dogs were, but stopped at the door, letting Stan go in first. To be fair, it could be pretty overwhelming to enter a room full of dogs without a natural ability to handle it.

Unlike most days, Sparky wasn’t waiting for him at the door, instead standing warily on the beds at the back of the room. As Stan approached, he stood defensively, growling lowly in the back of his throat.

“It’s just me,” Stan said, grabbing the leash from the wall and clipping onto Sparky’s collar. Also unlike most days, Sparky refused to follow alongside him, stubbornly dragging his feet along the floor as Stan pulled him out. This was definitely different.

“...What’s wrong with him?” Kyle asked once he was back outside, raising his voice to be heard over Sparky’s furious barking. “He seems upset.”

“I don’t know.” Stan tugged the lead again, but his dog kept his stance, ears back as he kept up the barks.

“This doesn’t seem right,” Kyle said, frowning again. “Let me take him.”

Stan handed the leash to Kyle, and Sparky repositioned himself by Kyle’s legs, still growling up at Stan. Really weird. Sparky had never been aggressive, or anything close to that.

“Stan, I think-“ Kyle started, loosely brushing Sparky’s head with a spare hand, dousing the growls a little. “I think something’s really wrong.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, _why_?” Kyle said, exasperation growing again. “Everything is wrong! Don’t you think it’s kind of a bad sign your own familiar is _growling_ at you??”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Can’t you just tell me, whatever it is?” Kyle questioned, taking a step towards him. “Like, I can get if you couldn’t tell one of the others, but don’t you trust me?”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“What is it? Family? School? Something with your magic?”

“It isn’t anything, Kyle. I’m fine.”

“...Fine, keep it a secret,” Kyle said, letting out a hard sigh. “But just know I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“Okay.”

“Let’s go,” Kyle muttered, tugging on the leash. Sparky followed this time, but kept close to Kyle and as far away from Stan as possible. For the rest of the walk too, the distance remained.

-

Today, like before, the air was mild.

Stan balanced his book on his legs as he scrawled out another answer, almost done with the set. It hadn’t taken him as long today as it normally did, but that was probably just because he hadn’t been watching Kyle as much. They were just doing the same stuff as past weeks, anyway.

It felt like hardly any time had passed at all when the whistle sounded from above, and Stan was still finishing off his last sentence when Kyle landed, walking over to him slowly. He didn’t say anything even as Stan put his book back into his bag, hauling it around his shoulder before standing up.

“Hey,” he greeted, and Kyle gave him a long look, something angry about his expression.

“Hi,” he said shortly, glancing off to the side. “...You- wanna go back?”

“Okay.”

They’d only walked a few steps away from the field before Kyle stopped abruptly, boots crunching against the cold grass. Stan stopped too, and waited.

“Can I just say like- this hurts?” Kyle said, turning around to face him.

“You got hurt?”

“I thought we were- like, I thought we were best friends, but now you’ve just totally shut me out.”

“Oh.” A breeze swept past them. “We’re still friends.”

“ _Are_ we?” Kyle turned again, gloves gripping tightly onto his broom. “I don’t even know what’s with you anymore. Like, I can’t even tell if it’s just you being a dick, or if something serious has actually happened, because you won’t tell me _anything_.”

“Nothing happened. I told you.”

“You haven’t told me anything!” Kyle burst out. “Like, what is it, seriously? Did you like- _lose_ your magic or something?? Are you dying?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know.” _Did_ he know? It was hard to tell, somehow. It felt like half of his brain had just switched off, and he was just on autopilot now. Nothing else surrounding it.

“Let’s- let’s go to the nurse, okay?” Kyle grabbed Stan’s wrist, and Stan tripped just a little as he started to drag him along. “I’m sure there’s something wrong with you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Stan said, the words leaving his mouth almost as unconsciously as breathing. Kyle’s grip on his wrist tightened for a second, before he yanked his own arm back his side.

“It _is_ a big deal!! Can’t you _see_ it??”

Stan just stared back at him, feeling the cold air on his cheeks. Kyle lowered his eyes.

“Did- did _I_ do something?” he asked then, quieter. “Is it me?”

“No.”

“If you don’t want to be friends anymore, then, like. Fine. But you could’ve just told me.”

Stan wondered how he was supposed to reply to that. Tried to remember what he might have said before all this happened, but the memory wasn’t there. It felt like the emptiness had been in his chest forever.

“Well,” Kyle said then, biting his lip before turning around again briskly. “...Sorry if I’ve been boring you.”

“No,” Stan tried to say, but Kyle was already walking away. He was fast, like always, and he could tell there was no way he was going to catch up. So, instead, Stan walked back to the grounds alone. It didn’t really matter either way.

Class had already ended for the day, and Stan had nothing else to do, so decided on just going back to their room. There was nothing really to do there either, but, he couldn’t think of anything. And didn’t really want to do anything anyway.

He’d made it halfway there when someone called out his name. Not Kyle this time, though.

“Oh, hi,” he said as he turned around, seeing Tweek running up to him from the other end of the corridor. Had they spoken before? He knew Tweek, but maybe they’d never really had a proper conversation. It was hazy.

“Ngh, you’re still the same??”

“I guess.”

“Ngh...” Tweek looked somewhat put off, then stuck his hand into his pocket with a twitch, pulling out a vial full of pale blue liquid. “Here, I finished it.”

“Oh.”

“Drink this and you’ll be back to normal,” he said, shivering. “No more creepy void eyes, ack.”

“I don’t need it, though.”

“What??” Tweek’s arm jerked, the liquid inside the vial shifting slightly, heavy like gel. “Why not?”

“Why would I need it?”

“Because you’re acting super creepy and making everyone super uncomfortable and without any emotions you might as well just be _dead_ , ack!”

“It’s not that serious.”

“I don’t know how anyone could compare this version of you to Craig,” Tweek huffed. “Just because he doesn’t show it, doesn’t mean he doesn’t have emotions. But you’re just- _wrong_ , ack!”

Stan shrugged one of his shoulders slightly, feeling heavy but also still empty.

“Take it,” Tweek instructed, holding out the vial again. Stan looked at it, then thought back to before, with Kyle, and the yelling.

“I don’t want it.”

“You’re fine staying like this??” Tweek demanded, almost seeming to bristle, and Stan just stayed silent. “Why is everyone in this school so stupid, ack?!”

“Okay, I’ll see you around,” Stan said, turning around.

“Ngh, wait!!” Tweek shouted after him, and he paused in his steps. “If- when you change your mind, it’ll be in the potions room, okay??”

“Okay.”

And he carried on walking.

-

Stan was sure that before, he used to look forwards to Fridays, but now they didn’t really seem like that much of a deal.

Was there even that much difference between weekends and weekdays? Stan couldn’t really remember. They seemed pretty much the same. Actually, everything was starting to feel the same. The past definitely existed, but he couldn’t really remember it that much anymore. Just stuff that happened, and then it faded.

Stan stared at the ceiling, and tried to think of something to do. But nothing seemed worth it. Maybe he could just lie here forever.

Nothing made any difference.

Then, the door flew open, crashing against the wall with a loud bang. Stan blinked, and looked up.

“Are you _serious_?!” Kyle yelled as he stormed up to him, staring down with blazing eyes.

“Hi.”

“You did some fucked up botched casting circle to get rid of your _emotions_??”

“Oh,” Stan said. Really, oh.

“Why- what the hell is wrong with you??” Kyle demanded, and Stan sat up, leaning against the wall. He wondered how much Kyle knew. Maybe he knew too much. Maybe Stan should be reacting to this better.

“How’d you know?” he asked instead, and the lack of a denial seemed to make Kyle even more livid.

“Butters told me,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “And he said Tweek made you the antidote, and you won’t take it. Seriously, what the fuck, Stan? Why would you want to stop all of your _emotions_?”

“I wasn’t trying to get rid of them all.”

“Whatever you were trying to get rid of, apparently you’re fine with how you are now,” Kyle spat. “Is there any point even talking to you right now? It’s not like anything’s going to get through.”

“Probably not.”

Kyle went to sit on his bed, before standing up again, looking like he didn’t know exactly where to put himself. “Can you even tell that I’m angry? Have you been totally blind to it this entire time? Like- how worried I was, and everything?”

“I can tell you’re angry,” Stan said.

“But it doesn’t make you feel anything?”

“No.”

“Don’t you- don’t you think that’s pretty fucked up?” Kyle sat down again, dragging his hands over his hat. “Literally, what’s the point of doing anything if you don’t get anything from it? You can’t even feel _bored_.”

“It’s easy, I guess.”

“But is it _worth it_?”

“I don’t know. I can’t really remember.”

“That’s-“ Kyle stopped himself, sucking in a breath. “That’s awful.”

“Oh.”

“All your memories and stuff.” He shook his head. “You want to live the rest of your life without anything?? No looking forward to the future? No hopes, or recollections, or anything?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re crazy,” Kyle said, then sat up. “Actually, right now, you _are_ crazy. You’re in that kind of state where you can’t be trusted to make your own choices.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah.” Kyle leaned forwards on his bed, frowning. “Normal Stan wouldn’t be like this. You’d yell back at me, or get upset, or- just whatever. Not like this. You’re fucked right now, dude.”

Stan tried to remember ever doing those things. His mind came up blank. Was that really him?

“You might’ve said no to all the other guys, but you’re not going to say it to me,” Kyle carried on, throwing the bag off his back and nearly tearing off the zip as he opened it up. And then, pulled out that same blue vial from before. “Drink it.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?” Kyle demanded, fiery aura blazing up again. “Why don’t you want to?”

“Because it’s easier like this.”

“You’re not even living!” Kyle thrust it out again. “You don’t know right now because you’re not thinking straight, but life’s a whole better when you can actually _feel_ it.”

“Maybe for you,” Stan said, suddenly starting to realise something. “But wasn’t it bad before?”

“What was bad?”

“You said, yelling at you, or getting upset with you. Those aren’t good things. I don’t want to do those things. It was bad before.”

“That’s not all there is!” Kyle exclaimed. “But isn’t yelling better than doing nothing?”

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

“Just drink it,” Kyle said, standing up and near pushing it into Stan’s hand. “It’ll be better, trust me.”

“But-“

“Sometimes other people sound wrong, but really, they’re right, and you’re the one that’s wrong,” Kyle said, using his other hand to wrap Stan’s fingers around the vial, warm against his skin. “So just shut up and drink it.”

“...Okay,” Stan said, turning the vial around in his hand. His reflection in the blue was fuzzy, and he couldn’t see his own face clearly. Even as he uncapped it, everything about it was strange. He couldn’t tell the smell of it, or the texture, or the taste as he let the glass touch his mouth.

Stan swallowed, and waited. Nothing felt different. It was still empty.

Or, actually, maybe he was starting to feel dizzy again-

“Are you okay?” Kyle asked, and when Stan opened his eyes, Kyle leaning over him as he laid slumped against his bed, his entire body lurched. Heart leaping into his mouth, all at once he felt sick, and panicked, and _bad_ -

He scooted back, pushing himself up against the wall and wishing there was more space for him to back up into, to get as far away from Kyle as possible. Another wave of nausea washed over him, and he pressed his hands against his mouth, head against his drawn up knees, eyes wide but not looking up. Oh god. Oh _god_.

“It worked, right?” Kyle asked, and Stan kept his gaze firmly down, heart racing. “They’re back?”

“I-“ As soon as he tried to speak, his voice caught in his throat, eyes welling up. Oh god, how could he have ever thought this was a good idea?? He should’ve stayed numb forever, it was better than this kind of shitty feeling- “I’m sorry-“

“It’s fine, we all do dumb stuff-“

“No-“ Stan squeezed his eyes shut to try and stop his tears. “I just- wanted it to go away-“

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not that bad, dude-“

“No-“ He shook his head. “I don’t know- how to deal with it. I can’t make it go away, it won’t go away. And I’m not good enough. I can’t-“

“What won’t?” Kyle put a hand on his shoulder, and Stan hunched up more. “You need to tell me, Stan. What it was that made you do this.”

“It was _you_!” Stan burst out, forcing his head up to meet Kyle’s startled eyes. “I just don’t want to have a stupid crush on you anymore, okay?? Not when you’re so much better!”

Kyle blinked. “What?”

Oh. Oh shit. Thirty seconds into drinking that stupid potion and he’d already said way too much. Goddammit. Goddammit he was so fucking stupid-

Ducking his head away so he wouldn’t have to see Kyle’s expression, Stan stumbled off his bed and ran as fast he could out the already open door, down the corridor, ignoring any of the calls after him. Kyle might be fast in the air, but Stan was definitely faster on ground, especially with a head start.

This really didn’t seem any better than before.

-

The gardens were the third highest room in the school.

The observatory was second highest, which Stan guessed made sense, since it was closer to the stars or whatever. And the gardens were pretty high up too, which Stan wasn’t entirely sure of the reason for. Maybe something to do with the sun.

There wasn’t any sunlight right now, though. Which meant the room was totally devoid of people, save for Stan tucked away behind a thick covering of leaves, head buried in Sparky’s fur. He was being a lot nicer now, running along with Stan as he’d grabbed him from the familiars’ room and took him all the way up here, just to keep him company whilst he hid. It was probably obvious, but- it was hard to think. Hard to think of a place he could go where Kyle wouldn’t be able to find him.

The highest room in the school was on the top of the main building. Most students hadn’t been there, because you needed a broom to get in, and only Sky Witches could work a broom.

Stan had been there, though. Back when they were younger, and Kyle had suggested the idea with a grin, and then they’d both been shakily soaring through the air, Stan’s arms wrapped around Kyle’s waist as they shook left to right. Laughing so hard against the wind with tears in their eyes, knowing that one wrong move and they’d both be falling far to the ground and probably ending up breaking all the bones in their bodies. And then dropping instantly as soon as they got through the window, breathless with laughter and victory, lying on the floor.

Stan pressed his face further against Sparky as more tears sprung to his eyes, arms still wrapped securely around him. He was sure his familiar could sense the pain in his chest, as Sparky whimpered quietly.

It was all so easy back then. Why did it have to get so complicated? Did he have to ruin everything? All he’d wanted to do was blot out one tiny part of his mind, and it had ended up this out of control. He didn’t even have a plan for after this. Maybe, by some miracle, he could avoid Kyle for the next few hours. Then what? They shared a room together. They shared every class. There was no way he could avoid it forever.

The noise of the doors opening echoed around him, and Stan’s heart picked up again. Seemed like there was no way he could avoid it even for the next ten minutes.

“Stan?” Kyle’s voice called out, and Stan gripped Sparky, staring hard into his eyes. If they really could communicate, Stan was definitely screaming ‘ _not a sound_ ’ to him right now. “Are you in here?”

To his horror, Sparky started to wag his tail, the sound of it thumping against the floor, echoing a thousand times louder in the silence. He tried to dull the noise by putting his hands against his tail, but as soon as he did, Sparky shot out through the leaves, and Stan really, _really_ wanted to disappear right then.

“Oh, Sparky,” Kyle’s voice said, and Stan just held his breath, trying to stay as still as possible. Even though he’d already as good as lost by this point. “Funny seeing you here. You haven’t seen Stan, have you?”

_I swear to god if he comes back over here-_ Stan thought, squeezing his eyes shut, but luckily the leaves stayed still. At least Sparky wasn’t going to betray him twice in thirty seconds.

“If you know where he is, can you tell him I just want to talk?” Kyle carried on. “And that I’m not mad, so he doesn’t need to hide from me.”

“...That’s not why I’m hiding from you,” Stan mumbled. A part of him hoped that Kyle didn’t hear, but then most of him kind of did. The silence that followed told him all he needed to know; Kyle was waiting for him.

Pressing his palms against his eyes one last time, Stan took a shaky breath and stood up, wandering out from the leaves. As soon as he saw Kyle stood there, another wave of nausea rolled over him, though he swallowed and tried to stay calm. Tried to resist the urge to run away again.

“There you are,” Kyle said, smiling at him. He still had a hand on Sparky’s head. “It’s good to see you looking like yourself again.”

“What, like I wanna throw up?”

“Basically.”

“Dude.” Stan frowned, but couldn’t bring himself to get properly annoyed when Kyle was still smiling at him.

“Seriously, I’m so glad you’re not just saying ‘okay’ or ‘I guess’ or whatever,” Kyle said, straightening up a little to look at him properly. “Do you know how annoying that was?”

“...I’m really sorry,” Stan said, sighing. “I just- thought it would be easy. It wasn’t meant to get all fucked up like this.”

“You had Kenny, Butters, and _Cartman_ as your backups. What were you expecting?”

“It would’ve gone right with you there,” Stan muttered, glancing away. It probably would’ve, too. And not only because Kyle was a Tome Witch.

“Well, then I’m glad I wasn’t,” Kyle said, crossing his arms. “Because then I wouldn’t have ever found out.”

“Well, you’d definitely have found out if you were there...”

“You’re missing the point, dude.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Stan glanced around the room, from the cluttered trellises, to the bunches of flowers, and the night sky looking down from above.

“...Why did you say you’re not good enough?” Kyle asked suddenly, and Stan jumped. God, he’d forgotten he’d even said that part.

“I don’t know. Because I’m not, I guess.”

“You _are_ , Stan,” Kyle said, frowning at him sadly. “I keep telling you this.”

“I know, but...” It was hard to believe. Hard when Kyle always seemed to get perfect grades, and Stan didn’t. Hard when it seemed like all his friends were better at their magic than him. Hard when he thought about himself, and then everyone else.

“I wish you could understand how I see you,” Kyle said. “Like, it’s partly because you have so many emotions that it’s so much fun to be around you. You don’t just get angry like I do. You really- _feel_ stuff. That’s cool, don’t you think?”

“...Maybe.” He’d never really thought about it like that. To him, it always seemed like an overreaction that just made everyone pissed off. “Are you mad at me?”

“I mean.” Kyle shrugged. “Kind of?”

“Dude, you said you weren’t!”

“I’m not mad at you for running away,” Kyle said, shaking his head. “I mean, I’d prefer that than you puking all over our room. I’m more mad that you decided to try and attempt insane crazy illegal magic shit instead of just- talking to me.”

Stan shifted, looking at his boots. “Sorry.”

“...It’s okay,” Kyle said quietly, and then pressed his lips together. Stan couldn’t tell if the silence that settled between them was a good one or not. It felt like he still had things to apologise for, and still things they had to speak about. Maybe Kyle was still mad at him? The air was hard to read, which was honestly rare between them. Sparky didn’t seem affected at all, easily trotting around the room and sniffing plants. Stan hoped he wasn’t gonna pee on them. “Hey, can I tell you something?”

Stan blinked up, startled by the sudden break in silence. “Sure, dude.”

“Uh, like.” Kyle tilted his head slightly, looking away. “Like, what you said before?”

Stan nodded.

“I mean, I kind of- have a crush on you too?”

“...Really?”

“Yeah.”

Stan stared carefully, trying to see if there was some joke or trick about to happen, but all there was in front of him was Kyle with the tips of his ears red, staring at the floor, and a whole bunch of leaves. Nobody else, unless he counted Sparky. So- maybe this was real? Or he was going to wake up, and this was him really passing out from drinking the potion right back at the start.

Stan kept waiting, but nothing happened. Everything stayed real in front of him.

“Dude, that’s-“ Stan cut himself off with a laugh. “That’s really gay.”

“That’s really all you have to say,” Kyle said, looking up at him with a pointed look.

“Yeah.”

Kyle shook his head, and Stan grinned when he could see him trying to hold back a smile. “You really could’ve saved everyone a lot of trouble by just asking me.”

“Are you just going to make me keep saying I’m a dumbass?” Stan asked, pressing his hands against his cheeks. “Because I’m a dumbass.”

“Only kind of,” Kyle said, then stared at him with a rare soft expression. “It’s nice to finally see your smile again.”

“...Oh.” Most of the coherent thought in Stan’s mind stopped as he tried to think of a response, and failed.

“Are you gonna cheer me on in the race?” Kyle asked, grinning at him with newfound excitement, and Stan felt it build up inside him too. It felt like it had been forever since he’d last _properly_ watched a practice, and now the real thing itself was coming up.

“Of course, dude! You’re totally gonna win.”

“Well, maybe if you’re there,” Kyle said, shrugging, and Stan beamed at him. “Hey, you wanna take Sparky out? Now that he’s not trying to kill you.”

“Yeah, okay.” Stan glanced down at his familiar with a grin. Sparky stopped his exploring and looked up at him, wagging his tail furiously. “I guess he knew something was off.”

“Definitely. You should’ve seen yourself, dude. It was creepy. Even worse than puppet magic.”

“Yeah, I guess illegal magic is a bad idea,” Stan said, shaking his head. “...Guess I’ve learnt something today.”

“Guess you have,” Kyle said, snickering at him. “C’mon, let’s go.”

And walking out of the gardens, his best friend and dog beside him, Stan was pretty sure that after all, emotions weren’t so bad after all.

-

Really, Kyle _was_ kind of perfect.

How had he ever forgotten that? Even with dodgy casting circles and potions, it was hard to believe that Stan could have ever not been totally captivated by watching Kyle in the sky, flawlessly navigating the end of the course, finally back on school grounds. Not quite in first place as he soared past the finish line, but it still felt the same as Stan stood up from his seat, cheering lost in the crowds. He pushed past the other students to end up under the finish line, Kyle thudding down next to him, still trying to regain his breath.

“Dude, you were awesome!” Stan exclaimed, grinning hard as he pulled him up into a hug.

“Thanks,” Kyle said, managing a breathless laugh. “I didn’t win though.”

“Does it matter?” Stan pulled back slightly, cheeks hurting with his smile.

Kyle grinned back at him, heavy breaths visible in the cold air. “Not really.”

“Jeez, here comes the homosexuals parade,” Cartman muttered, walking up behind them with Kenny in tow.

“Shut up, Cartman,” both Stan and Kyle said together, eliciting an angry yell in response.

“Nice job, Kyle,” Kenny said, giving a thumbs up.

“Yeah, thanks,” Kyle said, glancing up as more of the students passed the finish line. “Maybe next year, I’ll come first.”

“Definitely, dude,” Stan said, nodding firmly.

“So, what do you wanna do now?” Kyle asked, glancing around. The crowds around them grew larger as more people left their seats to come see the winners. Which included Kyle.

“Don’t you wanna stay here and celebrate?” Stan asked.

“I don’t really know any of the other guys,” Kyle said, shrugging. “I mean, I have to get my award and stuff first, but-“

“Jesus, Kahl, you’re _still_ going on about the race?” Cartman said, pulling a face. “Get over it, jeez.”

“It literally just fucking happened, fatass!”

“Oh, you guys wanna go get ice cream?” Kenny spoke up suddenly, and Stan was grateful for the diversion before another argument could break out. “Pretty sure they’re selling it at the cafeteria.”

“Seriously?” Stan looked up. “Yeah, dude, I want ice cream.”

“Sure, I’ll join,” Kyle said, glancing back behind him. “After I’m done here, I’ll come join you.”

“We can wait,” Kenny said.

“Uh, no we can’t,” Cartman said. “If I get there and there’s nothing left, I swear to god I will murder every single one of you.”

“Go alone then, fatass,” Stan said, rolling his eyes. Kyle grinned, the same way he always did when someone else took a shot at Cartman.

“Hey, fuck you guys,” Cartman said, taking a step back. “When you get to the cafeteria and there’s no ice cream left, you’re not having any of mine.”

“Sure,” Kyle said. “I’d rather have my trophy, anyway.”

“Seriously, Kahl, fuck you so much.”

“I think it was worth coming second just to piss him off so much,” Kyle muttered to Stan as Cartman stormed off, pushing through the crowds as he left. “Think about how pissed he’ll be once I get first.”

“Is that your only motivation?”

“Well, winning is nice too,” Kyle said, shrugging, then grinned. “And seeing you cheer for me.”

“You two are cute, huh,” Kenny said, snickering as Kyle rolled his eyes, turning away to hide his flush. “Guess you lucked out, Stan.”

“Yeah,” he said just as Kyle’s name was called, and he had to duck away from their group quickly to go to the front, waving back at them as he left. A burst of pride hit him as he watched Kyle smile as they handed over the award, clapping along with the crowd.

Next time he was planning on doing an illegal casting circle, he was definitely going to ask Kyle first. Maybe Stan wasn’t all that bad himself, but...a second opinion was always better.

**Author's Note:**

> i like style both as friends and a ship, but i don't think i'm very good at writing the ship ;o;  
> but i still had a lot of fun writing this!! it was fun to revisit the au  
> ive been obsessed with the hayley kiyoko's 'i wish' for a long time, and i was listening one day and thought suddenly 'i could write style of this....'  
> so i did!!! and i hope you enjoyed it ;w; though i really think this will be the last for this au lol  
> thank you so much for reading and i'll see you again soon!! ;u;


End file.
